On The Mend
by kate avalanche
Summary: SPOILERS FOR SECOND SEASON - After losing the only person he ever loved, Merlin's friendship with Arthur grows stronger. Or is it morphing into something else entirely? Merthur
1. Chapter 1

After getting off to a...**really **porny start, I've decided to continue working in the Merlin fandom. I was inspired by the boys' relationship at the end of the Freya episode, and instead of finding Merlin's love for her a stumbling block to slashing the boys, I thought it could be a starting point.

Should I continue? I have some lovely (and more slashy) ideas in mind for later parts, but if it's not catching people's interest, I'll just write it for me and save you the inbox spammage.

**Disclaimer: don't own 'em. Breaks my heart.**

**Warnings: NOOGIETIME!ARTHUR, BROODING!MERLIN, **...yeah, that's about it for this.**  
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Merlin sat on the floor, boot in hand, looking nearly as miserable as he felt. He stared down at his hands and they furiously scrubbed Arthur's footwear in a desperate attempt to narrow his world to that shoe-brush and its back and forth motion. Anything to distract him from the gaping hole left by the first person he ever dared to love.

Yes, he was certain, he had loved Freya. It was no good now though. A part of him had gone with her in that boat, had gone up in flames along with her cooling body, so limp and pale and devoid of the frenetic energy she'd shown in the short time they knew each other and –

This wasn't working.

The pile of clean boots to his right grew steadily and his face grew hotter as his blinked back stinging tears.

"Merlin."

The sorcerer's head popped up to see his prince walk in with a look of – was that concern?

"Merlin, something's been bothering you," his thoughts raced, had he been found out? Had Arthur come to break the news gently, that he was now a known traitor? This would get him more than a time in the stocks. But Arthur continued, "Is it something I did? Is it that time I threw water on you?"

The tension left his body as he realized just how blissfully ignorant his prince was. He even managed a wry smile, "Well. It wasn't very nice."

It was so easy to dissolve into simple banter with Arthur. If it weren't for the trappings of royalty, Merlin had a feeling the blond would be the most easygoing, gentle man he knew. And it was that that reassured the brunet that he was working towards a worthy goal, ensuring that one day his prince would become his king, and maybe help repair the damage done by Uther.

And there it was again. Uther's mad crusade against all things magic. It robbed Arthur of his mother; it robbed Merlin of his childhood…and Freya. And in an instant, the hole was there again, every bit as black and sucking as it had been before.

"Neither was calling me _fat. _Because I'm not," Merlin caught a flash of something in Arthur's expression so surprising he could have burst out laughing. And then he was caught by the neck in his prince's arm, a strong hand going its best to rub him a bald patch.

That flash had been insecurity. Arthur was insecure about himself, and how he appeared to Merlin. The idea would have been comical, if it hadn't made him feel a little special.

And just like that, the hole shrank. Just the tiniest bit, but still. Merlin looked up at the blond and allowed himself a small smile. He would make it through this, if not for the king Arthur would become, then at least for the man he was now.

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I can't know what you think if you don't tell meeee! Review!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two, already! You guys are lucky I had a fantastic day for inspiration, and even though this is a short one, there'll be a new chapter soonish!

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On The Mend

Chapter 2

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It was a few days before Merlin allowed himself a moment of grief again. He'd been in the stable, cleaning tack muddied on Arthur's most recent hunting trip and found himself alone.

He thought he'd been doing better. He'd managed to think of her two or three times without wanting to curl up in a ball and never get up again.

Merlin sat on a stool, working at a stubborn bit of dirt on Arthur's saddle when he heard it. The barely-there sound of cat's feet padding on hard-packed dirt. His head snapped up, his eyes wide and wild, his heart in his throat, and her name on his lips.

"Miaow"

And the sorcerer's heart broke for the thousandth time. It was a stray cat proudly depositing a dead cricket at his feet. The cat butted her head against his ankle, purring like distant thunder. Merlin's slender fingers curled around her, scooping her up to scratch behind her ears absently. Yellow eyes stared unblinkingly at blue, but he took little notice of the cat in his hands, thinking only of the girl who had so effortlessly enchanted him.

"Merlin?"

He flinched at the sound, sending the cat sprawling. Shit, it was Morgana, just walking into the stables. He couldn't let her see him like this, so he swiped at his damp cheeks with the backs of his hands, hoping he was fast enough to escape her notice.

"Merlin?" she called again, then she spotted him squatting there in the empty stall, "I thought I would find you here." Her expression was soft – not pitying. Never pitying, "How are you feeling?"

He stifled the urge to snuffle as she pulled up a stool beside him and placed a milk-white hand on his wrist, "Fine. I'm fine, Morgana."

She shook her head, a sad smile on her face, "Liar. Merlin, I _know_."

And that was all it took to throw open the floodgates. His façade crumpled as though it were made of papier-mâché and his torso slumped inward. He gave a shuddering sob and sucked in a ragged breath.

"I'm so sorry," Morgana breathed more than said, as she pulled the boy into her arms and tucked his head under her chin, "I'm so sorry it had to happen like that."

They sat there like that for several minutes, but it seemed like hours to Merlin. Morgana's limbs, surprisingly strong for ones so thin, supported him as she murmured comforting sounds against the crown of his head.

"Thank you," he said, his voice muffled against her collarbone.

She paused for a moment, then spoke, "Arthur's been worried about you, you know. He's too thick to come out and say it, but he can tell that there's something been bothering you," she leaned back to look at Merlin, "The prat's convinced himself he's done something to make you like this. He's been driving Gwen and me mad, asking if you've said anything to us about it."

"What? I couldn't tell Arthur! There's too much that… He's the king's son; there are some things I just can't tell him…" Merlin, eyes puffy and cheeks red, gave the tiniest smile of disbelief, "Has he really been worrying?"

Morgana laughed, "Yes! I think you ought to speak to him. You know, he's not as like Uther as he'd like people to think. And if he keeps badgering us, I might do something rash." She gave an impish smile and squeezed Merlin's hand.

"At least promise me you will think about it? Strange as it may seem, I believe you are the best friend Arthur has, and seeing you like this is tearing him up inside," with that, Morgana stood up, brushed stray bits of hay from the hem of her gown, and left.

Well. What was he going to do about this?


End file.
